


Modest Man

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Episode: s14e14 De Los Muertos, M/M, Rare Pair, de los muertos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:02:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20208550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: from anon on tumblr: I wish you'd write a fic where Nick has a fling with Agent Silva while in Mexico





	Modest Man

Despite the exhaustion of the day, Nick found that he couldn’t sleep. The small motel room that he and Doc Robbins shared was too cramped, too stuffy. The good doctor was already blissfully asleep, said he had started to take pills to aid him to do so. 

Nick sighed, started to flick through the channels until he found an old western movie, dubbed in Spanish. He swore his eyes were finally starting to droop when he heard a knock on the door. 

He got up, clenching his gun behind his back, praying to whoever would listen that it was housekeeping, and not the cartel. He cautiously opened the door after another knock.

“Javier,” Nick sighed in relief as he was greeted by the sight of Agent Silva at the door step, sporting a leather jacket with a v-neck underneath. “Glad to see you got out all right.”

“Si, thanks to you.”

“Ah, it was really him,” Nick gestured back with his thumb. 

“You are a modest man, Nick Stokes.”

Nick smiled, and ran a hand over his bearded chin. Silva smiled back at him, and he seemed to glow in the dim, flickering light. Nick ran his tongue over his lips, his teeth bit down on his lower lip.

“Anyway, I, uh, wanted to ask…if you maybe…wanted to grab a beer?”

“Yeah,” Nick answered, a bit too quickly. “Yeah, I’d love to.” 

He grabbed his own jacket, and scribbled a note for Doc Robbins before meeting back up with Silva. 

Instead of going to a bar, they went to a liquor store, and soon found themselves sitting on top of Silva’s car, parked in a desert. Bathed in moonlight, they sat and drank for hours, talking about everything and nothing. As they polished off their last beer, Nick’s hand brushed up against Silva’s, and he quickly retracted, muttering a drunken apology.

Silva, however, just reached for it again, and intertwined his fingers with Nick’s. 

“My flight’s in six hours,” Nick lamented, as he stroked his thumb across Silva’s.

“Get a later flight,” Silva suggested.

“You know what…I just might.”

Nick leaned against Silva as he tried to dig out his phone with his free hand, but lost his balance and fell against the officer, landing in his lap. They both laughed, and Silva ran his hand through Nick’s hair. 

Nick eventually sat up, and moved his lips towards Silva’s. 

A few hours later, and Doc Robbins texted Nick with a message that he booked them a later flight.


End file.
